What Was Needed

By Saber ShadowKitten
And Now For Something Completely Different 24

Tuesday, August 29, 2000

Spike cast one more look at the sleeping lump on the bed, then left the motel room. The sun was bright in the sky and he squinted as he surveyed the parking lot while searching his pockets for his sunglasses. It was only noon -- way too early for him to be awake -- but he had to get out of the motel room. The cloying smell of sex had been making his stomach turn.

Normally, sex was sex was sex was sex. Spike could care less as to who, what, when, where, and how, as long as he got his rocks off. This encounter, though, had left a bad taste in his mouth, and not from going down on the elf. It had been almost like a chore, and although he'd well-pleasured his partner and had been equally pleasured, it hadn't been enjoyable.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Sunglasses in place, Spike climbed on the Hawk and kicked her into gear. The Hawk's engine purred sweetly, and he tore down the street, away from the disquieting sensation emanating from the motel room. But despite physically leaving the motel, his mind had stayed to dwell on the problem.

His thoughts swirled in his brain as fast as the pavement passing under the wheels of the bike. Was it him? Was it his choice of partner? Was it his Not Concern over Xander's actions last night? Was it his Not Concern over the cold shoulder he'd been getting from Xander? Did he catch a case of Brooding from shagging his sire? Could he be any more of a woman?

Spike's growl blended in with the growl of the engine as kicked up the speed. Maybe what he needed was a good kill, to feel flesh bruising with his hits, to hear bones breaking under his Docs, to taste the blood as it spurted like a fountain from his victim's throat. He hardened beneath his jeans and his nostrils flared in anticipation. Yes, he thought. A good kill was exactly what he needed.